i carry your heart with me
by hey.moon.hello.goodbye
Summary: // i carry it in my heart It's Valentine's Day in Lima. Featuring Rachel/Puck, Tina/Artie, Finn/Quinn, and Kurt! T for mild swears.


**A/N: I **_**know**_** I should be working on 'Fame' right now… but I had to get out a Valentine's thing. Sorry a million times if you hate this… I just typed it up really quick trying to get it out before Valentine's Day. Poem featured is 'i carry your heart with me' by e.e. cummings, please review! **

_i carry your heart with me (i carry it in_

_my heart) i am never without it (anywhere_

_i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done_

_by only me is your doing, my darling)_

Rachel's high school experience had not been easy, but this was definitely one of the harder days.

She'd gotten back a bad grade in math – a _seventy seven_, possibly her lowest quiz grade ever – and had to change her clothes twice because of two slushie facials. (The second time, she had to borrow Tina's extra pair of jeans. They had rips in the knees and were too long, and as Kurt reminded her, Rachel _definitely_ couldn't rock that look.)

Valentine's Day was usually one of Rachel's favorite holidays. She loved love, especially a whole day dedicated to the celebration of it. But today just wasn't a good day.

So when Noah showed up at her locker looking smug, her anger overflowed.

"What do you want, Noah?" she snapped, throwing her chemistry textbook into her locker and yanking out a binder.

He put his hand on her locker and grinned. "Heard you got nailed, Berry. Twice. Who did it?"

"Who do you think did it, Noah? The hockey team, of course. You could possibly have come to the conclusion by using creative problem solving or other such tactics, instead of wasting my time with idiotic questions."

He raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I might not know what creative problem solving is, but I think that was your way of saying you're in a shitty mood."

Rachel slammed her locker shut, inadvertently (or so she tried to convince herself) crushing his fingers. While he swore and shook his fingers through the air, she turned on her heel and started walking.

"Someone has a pole stuck up their ass today!" he shouted between profanities. A pause, while everyone in the hallway turned to look at him. "Your pants are too long!" Noah yelled as a final insult before she slipped into class.

At the end of the day, Rachel found a slushie in her locker and a bruise on Karovsky's right eye. Rachel raised an eyebrow suspiciously and brought the straw to her mouth.

She smiled. Grape.

_i fear_

_no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want_

_no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)_

_and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant_

_and whatever a sun will always sing is you_

Tina had no idea what it was about Artie that made her so _stupid._ There was something about him and his damn smile that made her weak in the knees, in the most dry-heave, gagging-in-love literal sense.

Whenever she was around him, she had sudden urges to tell him what she'd had for breakfast (eggs, scrambled) or exactly how many episodes of _Law and Order_ she watched last night (four). Or maybe she'd feel inclined to start spewing weird facts, like did you know a caterpillar has 4,000 muscles in its body? Or cats can hear ultrasound, did you know that?

So when Tina saw Artie on Valentine's Day, she laughed a little hysterically (mentally kicking herself; _what was _wrong_ with her_?) and said, "Did you know the longest word in English is ?"

Artie laughed and grinned up at her. "G'morning to you, too, Tina," he teased. "What's it mean? Pneumo-whatever-it-was."

"A disease of the lungs caused by inhaling silicon dust," she burst out, saying it all on one breath. _Shut up, shut up,_ she thought to herself. "Pretty painful, actually. Your lungs bleed, I think. It was on _Law and Order_."

Just then, Tina stumbled forward on her shoelace and caught herself on Artie's knees, staring up at him with wide eyes. He chuckled at her expression, covered her hands with his, and said, "I hope you don't get it, then."

"Get what?"

His brow wrinkled. "Pewno… newno… newmo… the lung thing, with the silicon dust."

"Oh." She smiled. "Me, too. I mean, I hope _you_ don't get it, I don't mean I hope I don't get it… well, I don't really want to have it, but if it was a toss-up between me and you, I'd have to say –"

The rest of her speech was muffled by Artie's palm. "Tina," he said, trying to fight back a smile, "Happy Valentine's Day."

He removed his hand, only to press his lips quickly against hers. And she was almost too flabbergasted to kiss him back. (Almost.)

_here is the deepest secret nobody knows_

_(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_

When Finn and Quinn had broken up, Finn decided the worst thing was that their lockers were right next to each others.

Seriously. Every time he had to get his bio textbook or grab some money for lunch, Quinn was there, up on her toes a bit to reach her combination lock, trying to open it with one hand resting on her belly. So he'd have to take a lap around the school, maybe go chat with a Glee kid. (And they'd always look at him knowingly and say, "Quinn's at her locker, huh?")

For a few weeks after Sectionals, he could barely look at her. She'd tricked him, manipulated him; he needed to move on and forget about her and her drama.

But for some reason, every thought in his mind came with a Quinn-ism in fine print. It was like, _I need coffee. Does Quinn want any?_ and _Crap, I flunked that math quiz. I wonder if Quinn will help me study for the next one?_ So he'd been trying to stay away from her as much as possible, because the last thing he thought he needed was more Quinn.

So on Valentine's Day when he saw Quinn twiddling with her combination lock, he turned right around and headed the other way.

He paused at Mercedes's locker and opened his mouth. "Hey, Merce –"

"Listen, white boy," she interrupted, shutting her locker and turning to him, "this is getting ridiculous. You need to talk to Quinn, or I'm gonna have to take you to the carpet."

He pretended to be offended, "Who said anything about –"

Mercedes rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "I can see her right there," she said, pointing. _Crap._ "Go," she demanded.

Sighing, he turned around and walked back towards Quinn. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "Uh, Quinn?"

She turned quickly, looking startled, one hand on her pregnant stomach. "Oh," she said breathlessly, tucking the little French braid in her hair behind her ear. "Hi."

"Hi."

They stared at each other for a few seconds that passed like hours. "Was there something you… wanted?" Quinn asked finally, holding her binder to cover her chest protectively.

"Oh." His mind raced; he hadn't actually thought of what he'd say after he said hi. "Um… I was wondering…"

"You were wondering…" she prompted.

"Do you – I mean, um – do you want to maybe get a coffee or something after school?" he asked on one breath.

She looked confused, but her mouth was curving into a smile. "But you hate coffee."

"Yeah, but you like it so I can get a soda or something." He paused to rub the back of his neck again. "So do you wanna?"

Quinn's face broke out in the widest smile he'd ever seen, and he basked in the sight of her dimples again. "I'd really like that, Finn."

Relieved, he smiled. "Cool! I'll meet you after eighth?" She nodded happily and headed off to class, leaving a grinning Finn behind.

It was then the bell rang and he realized he hadn't gotten his books yet. "Crap!"

_and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows_

_higher than the soul can hope or the mind can hide)_

_and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_

Kurt groaned as he struggled with his messenger bag and the huge twenty-four pack of water he was trying to carry through the garage door. "Hey, Dad," he called into the empty shop, "I'm home."

When there was no response, he dropped his bag by the door and left the case of water next to the phone. "Dad?"

Suddenly, there was a noise from the corner and a muffled swear. Kurt turned to see a pair of jean-clad legs sticking out from under a Honda. The person swung out from under the car and hauled themselves up.

A guy, Kurt now saw. A very _good-looking_ guy. He had tanned skin and dark, curly hair. (Italian, he thought.) He was medium height and medium build, and he had grease on his chin.

And of course, the first thing out of Kurt's mouth was, "You're not my dad."

He looked up, smiling. "No. I am most definitely not your dad. You must be Kurt, right?" Kurt nodded warily and the guy nodded back. "I'm the new mechanic. Burt told me about you. I'm Damien, by the way."

_Oh my God_, he was gorgeous. Literally drop-dead, jaw-on-the-floor gorgeous. And Kurt had no idea what to say. "So, um," he said, just trying to be able to talk to this boy for a few more minutes, "having a good Valentine's day?"

Damien made a face and lifted up the hood of the car. "No, actually." He paused and glanced back at Kurt. "I broke up with my boyfriend."

For a second, Kurt couldn't think of anything to say. _He's_ gay? "That sucks," Kurt said, silently rejoicing and feeling kind of bad for it. "You look familiar. Do you live around here?"

Damien grabbed a wrench and started working. "Yeah, I live in Carmel. Go to Carmel High, too."

"You wouldn't happen to be in the Glee club, would you?" Kurt asked, somewhat weakly.

Damien nodded. "So that's why I know you. You're in New Directions." He paused to stick the wrench in his mouth and move things around a little under the hood. "I was at your Sectionals event, and I think I like your club better than mine."

"Huh?"

"I mean," Damien continued, resting the hood down and turning to Kurt, "you guys looked like you were having fun. And you were just… amazing."

"Fun?" Kurt laughed. "We were freaking out. The other teams were doing our songs and we had to pull together that performance in thirty minutes."

Damien's eyes widened. "I never would've guessed, honestly. You were great. And your balladeer was good, too."

Kurt sighed. "She may be lacking in fashion sense and social skills, but Rachel is an excellent singer, yes."

Damien checked his watch and seemed to suppress a sigh. "Well, I guess my shift is over," he said – was that reluctance?

"Wait," Kurt said quickly, panning his eyes around the room, looking for a distraction. "Don't you want to… stay and have a water?" As if he didn't look strange enough, Kurt gestured at the huge crate of water.

Damien pretended to ponder this, and then shrugged, grinning. "I am a little thirsty."

_i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)_

-fin-


End file.
